


Grey

by the_ghostwriter96



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Cw: casually ableist ideas (related to Japan's views on mental illness), Cw: drug abuse, Cw: prescription drug abuse, Hurt/Comfort, Klonopin, M/M, Slow Burn, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-14
Updated: 2016-11-14
Packaged: 2018-08-31 01:45:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8558395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_ghostwriter96/pseuds/the_ghostwriter96
Summary: AU after the second season.Cope fic: Tsukishima has anxiety, and gets dependant on his meds.  Hinata notices there's something wrong, bonding ensues.





	

Tsukishima was 15 when his mom took him to see a doctor, and he felt humiliated. He wasn't depressed, he wasn't hearing voices, he wasn't having problems, so why? Because he wasn't making friends? Because he stayed in his room all the time? He wasn't stressed out, either, which is why when the doctor prescribed him Klonopin for anxiety that didn't even exist, he didn't touch them. When he got home, he shoved them underneath his bed, listened as they rolled back and gently tapped the wall, and went about his life. He stopped eating in his room, and brought Yamaguchi around sometimes, and that was the end of the doctor-nonsense.

...

For awhile. He was 17 when it was too much. Volleyball, school, people, family, life. He had turned into someone that he didn't want to be; taunting and teasing became insults and criticisms, different from before in that they were meant to tear down rather than rile up. Yamaguchi didn't come around much anymore, and who could blame him? Kei wasn't mean to *him*, but he still wasn't pleasant to be around. He couldn't be, though. He couldn't even get up in the morning without forcing down a groan of frustration at having waken up at all. He was tired, but not just physically. He was tired of the motions of his life. He wanted more and he wanted nothing. He was rearranging the furniture in his room (for a "breath of fresh air" as his mother put it) when he found the pills. Expired. He tossed them in the trashcan.

The next morning, he woke up and glanced at the clock. Five till his alarm. He sat up groggily, rubbing at his eyes with his fingers and something took him over. His frustration deepened, opening something like a pit in his stomach and he felt like he was falling, being dragged down and he couldn't claw his way up. His heart raced, his hands shook, he felt like he couldn't breathe and he just wanted- *needed* it to stop. His eyes fell on the trashcan.

He took half of one that morning, as an experiment. After school, during practice, he swallowed down the other half when nobody could see. It helped him stay calm. It helped him not be as *mean*. The first-years whispered about his apparent good mood. Yamaguchi walked home with him from school.

..

That became his routine, for a week. He was okay again. Everything was okay again.

...

And then it wasn't enough. He took a whole pill on Monday morning when he woke up with his eyes stinging. When he rubbed them, hot tears clung to his fingertips. What was wrong with him? Was it school that made him dread waking up this much? Not sleeping enough definitely wasn't helping, but how could he sleep when the idea of waking up made him fall inward, fall into that pit that was somehow inside of him and around him?

He knew he needed to ration them, but what else could he do? He took a whole pill, and another whole pill during practice. Nobody knew, nobody saw, but everyone liked this new him and he felt good knowing that.

...

The time between each pill felt harder and harder to swallow than the actually pills did, even without water. Wake up, cry sometimes or maybe just grab for the bottle hidden between his bed and mattress before he had time to think. Go to school and everything was fine. Get through his first class and everything was fine. The second was okay. The third was too much. Lunch, classes, walking to the gym after school all became a slow and dragging race to get to his next pill. He wouldn't take any more, he wouldn't be like the guys he'd see after school, trading plastic bags of pills and acting like children, like fools, where everyone could see.

...

He started taking three a day; one in the morning, one halfway through school and one before practice.

...

"Hey, Tsukishima," Hinata's obnoxious energy was still there and almost grated his nerves, but it was a dull buzz underneath the calming, soothing grey that the Klonopin gave him. "You're different."

*'So are you,'* He wanted to say, but he didn't. He looked down at the redhead, who hadn't gotten any taller but he had *sort of* filled out for his age. His jaw was a little more square, his muscles just a little bit more defined, but not a lot compared to how much everyone else had grown. He grew out his hair, just enough to need to tie and pin back during practice and games. That wasn't what changed most, though.

"Yeah?" Kei asked, arching an eyebrow as the redhead leaned back against the wall. Next to him, arms crossed.

"Yeah." Hinata hadn't grown *physically*, but he'd grown up. He was still loud, still obnoxious and shrill and energetic and *everywhere*, but he wasn't as... childish. He didn't take things so personally. The most consistent thing, though, the thing that Kei couldn't get over, was even after two years of losing games and tournaments and disappointment, he was as determined and optimistic as he'd ever been. His growing maturity and that determination, the determination to be *happy*, was something that the blonde couldn't wrap his head around. "I know we're not... friends, but if-" Hinata broke off, eyes turning to the court. To the first-years as they fumbled and struggled to find their place on the team. "Are you okay?"

The question should've been alarming, somehow. Because it meant something was off, that Hinata had caught a glimpse of something that was supposed to be lost in the grey of prescription medication. He just stared down at his teammate that was not his friend, and nodded his head once. "Why wouldn't I be?"

And that question seemed to strike Hinata somewhere, in some way, because he pulled away from the wall. Hands raised, backing up toward the court. "It's nothing, don't worry about it."

Kei was left desperately trying to figure out what he'd done wrong, how he'd slipped up, because if *Hinata* noticed something that wasn't volleyball, it had to be pretty damn obvious.

...

Two pills at a time, except during practice because two made his body too sluggish to play well. He took one before practice, and then another after.

...

And then he needed them to help him sleep. Swallow it down and slip into the blissful grey of not caring anymore.

...

"You can talk to me if something's going on, you know." Hinata said one day after practice. Paused in cleaning the gym, his voice hushed while Kageyama and Yamaguchi were on the other side of the court.

Kei almost lost his grip on the scrub-brush in his hand and he looked over at Hinata. When had he come over? He wasn't even finished with his section of the floor. "What? There's nothing." He went back to the floor.

It was only a half-lie. Nothing was going on, except in the brief times in between each one. And that was easily remedied by the next. He kept his eyes on the floor, didn't let them wander to his bag by the door where they were kept.

"Okay. But if there *is*, you can tell me." And Hinata beamed at him when he glanced over again. Only when Kei looked up again, he wasn't nearly as bright and happy. He was tight-lipped and deep in thought, scrubbing hard at the floor the way he often did after they'd lost a match.

...

That weekend, home alone, he took five and stayed awake so he could feel what it was like to not feel. It was a good feeling.

...

He found the guys behind the school. The ones with little plastic bags of pills, the fools, the childish guys he wasn't going to be like.

He bought more Klonopin. He was almost out.

...

He didn't know they'd be stronger. He realized later it was because these were fresher, these weren't expired. Or maybe they were a higher dose. Maybe both.

He couldn't pay attention in class all day- he didn't care to, and it was a good feeling. He didn't care, he felt numbed and good at the same time and it was what he needed. The grey was what he needed, and he had a new stock of it tucked away in his gym bag. Underneath his clothes, in the pill bottle he'd peeled the sticker from so he could say they were allergy pills if anyone asked.

...

"Tsukishima..." Hinata's voice wasn't like it usually was. It was quiet, and small and weak and he sounded like he'd gone back a couple of years. Like he'd lost the confidence gained by growing up.

Kei didn't look up from his phone, pretended he had music playing in his headphones, pretending he hadn't heard because he knew what Hinata had seen.

Tucked away, sitting against the wall by the vending machine is whete Tsukishima went to take them and Hinata had seen. He set his water-bottle down and clenched his teeth and willed the grey to come in and give him the strength that he needed to act natural. To not panic and cry. How *much* had Hinata seen?

The smaller boy knelt in front of Kei and gently pulled the cord of his headphones so that they fell from his ears. They toppled down his shoulders, his chest and landed on his legs. "Tsukishima," That small, weak voice came again.

He couldn't ignore it this time. Kei raised his eyes and blinked, as though he'd just noticed Hinata was there and then he scowled. "What?"

"What were those?"

"What?" He asked, forcing irritation into his tone to disguise the fear.

"What did you take?"

He didn't say anything at first, and then, "Pain killers. I have a migraine."

"Oh." But he didn't look or sound convinced.

There was a beat of silence.

"Don't- don't take a lot, it's not good for you." His voice might have wavered, his smile might have trembled. "It's almost time for practice."

Hinata *had* seen. He'd seen him take five. "I'm sitting out. The lights hurt my eyes." He offered, playing on the migraine lie that he knew Hinata saw through.

There was no smile this time, but his lips trembled anyway. "...Okay. I'm walking you home today, so don't leave till after practice or I'll show up on my own."

"Okay." His own voice was weak now.

...

They didn't say anything on the walk to Kei's house. Even when, occasionally, the taller boy stumbled, Hinata said nothing and only turned away.

Shame and fear bit through the grey. Hinata couldn't even look at him. *Hinata*. The sun, the shining, bright boy that had nothing but determined optimism in his body was sickened by what Kei had become. Kei was sickened by the same thing.

Hinata walked him to his door, and then left for his own house.

...

They walked like that most days. Yamaguchi walked with him sometimes, came over now and then to study, but he and Kageyama seemed to be spending most of their time together. When no one else did, Hinata walked him home and neither of them said a word.

...

Kei didn't take any before practice after that, because he didn't want Hinata to notice. He waited until he was home, after dinner or in bed. He snapped more in practice, but it wasn't even because he was annoyed and it wasn't mean like he was before. It was impatience for the next one. The next pill, the return of the grey.

...

He cut down. Just a little. His grades were slipping, so he pulled back and took one, sometimes two, and never more than three at a time. For a while.

...

Hinata called him the night after their third, and final, lost tournament. After everyone had gotten home and unwound, grieved their loss and retired to bed, his phone lit up and his ringtone interrupted the music in his headphones. He answered by accident, having meant to silence it, and was afraid to speak when he saw the name.

"...Hello?"

Kei hummed a greeting.

"Hey, it's me." His voice was hoarse, worn, like he'd been crying or screaming. Knowing Hinata, he had been, and probably both. "Sorry for- it's just, usually Kageyama blows off some steam with me when- but he's busy. Is it okay that I called?"

He sounded so hurt. So sad. Kei wanted to reach through the phone and pull him through it, into the empty space that was filled with numbness and goodness and no sadness and *grey* and *grey* and *nothing* but space. "Yeah." He managed it clear enough, but his mouth felt thick and the word was heavy. He'd taken so many, he couldn't stand the loss and the disappointment *again* and he'd just grabbed them the moment he'd shut himself in his room.

There was a sniff, muffled, like Hinata had turned away. "I'm- I guess that's it, huh? I really wanted... I guess it was silly to think we'd make it. This must be how Sugawara and- how they felt. I just really thought- but it was silly. I was just silly."

"It wasn't." He could barely keep from slurring the words. "You were not."

There was a pause, a long silence from both ends before Hinata spoke again. "Thanks, Tsukishima." And he sounded surprised, and small. "Can- can I see you this weekend?"

*'No.'* because he would have to go without for as long as Hinata was around, but "Yeah." because it was Hinata and he shined so bright through everything else.

...

He didn't take any the next morning. He took a deep breath and steadied himself. He took a shower. Hinata really, really noticed somehow, and it seemed to really, really upset him. So Kei didn't take any. He dressed, brushed his hair and head out to meet Hinata. Every step seemed to drag his mind back to the pills. Every step away from home, away from them, was met with resistance because this was *wrong*, because he hadn't taken his morning pills yet and he understood then that there was a problem. He resolved to fix it on his own.

...

Meat buns, because Hinata seemed to have two interests in life and they were volleyball and meat. He was talking as they walked along the road, complaining that Kageyama simultaneously was annoying and wouldn't hang out with him, words muffled behind his food. Babbling on about this and that and who did what in school and classes and grades. Completely unaware that while Kei was (surprisingly) listening, there had been maybe too words from him during the walk. If he wanted to ramble on, why not just talk to the air? What was the point of hanging out if he had one-sided conversations?

But Kei didn't mind. He wasn't much of a conversationalist on a good day, and this was proving to be a difficult one- but he wasn't snappy. He wasn't pissy. That was a good sign.

He tilted his head back, looking up to the sky. The sun shone through his glasses and made his eyes ache and strain against the light; bright, unending, (*obnoxious,*) and like his teammate. He lowered his eyes, blinking through the spots that the sun had burned into his vision to see Hinata. Red hair like flames in all directions, even with the ponytail. Bangs in his eyes that he brushed away constantly instead of just cutting them. Hinata tilted his head back, amber eyes locking with Kei's and he stopped talking to beam at him, just as bright as the sun.

Kei made a second realization that day; they were friends, suddenly, somehow.

...

"Are we friends?" Hinata asked during a practice, his voice hushed while the first-years and second-years practiced their serves and receives. While Kageyama and Yamaguchi seemed oddly deep in their conversation by the door.

Tsukishima grit his teeth, because yes, but admitting that was hard because it meant admitting that he actually valued something or someone. It meant he cared. His eyes flickered to his bag and back to the the younger teammates. "Duh." He said, but mentally, he was counting down the minutes until he could be alone.

He had gotten down to two, twice a day. In the morning if he wasn't going to see Hinata, and at night before he laid down. Sometimes on weekends he would take more. Sometimes a lot, but it was hard when Hinata seemed to be around all the time.

Hinata beamed at him again and the light cut through everything else, if only for a moment.

...

The strap of his bag snapped and it fell on it's side on the sidewalk. Hinata propped up his bike and grabbed at the bag and Kei tried to stop him, tried to grab it and shove everything inside, but Hinata saw and he was pale and silent while he helped shove everything back inside. Kei didn't bother with subtlety because it didn't matter anymore. He didn't explain because the explanation was exactly what the conclusion Hinata would jump to, anyway. He just dropped them in the bag and carried it home.

Hinata didn't say anything during the walk. That night, he sent Kei an email.

**From: Shrimpy**  
**Message:** can i sleep over tomorrow

And Kei asked his mother, and she said yes and what was the worst that could happen, anyway? Maybe Hinata would tell her about the pills, but what would it matter? They'd take them away but he could easily get more. Or maybe Hinata would pretend it never happened, the way he did when he caught Kei taking them at school. Maybe he just wanted to hang out. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

And then grey, grey, grey, and Kei wasn't worried anymore.

...

"You can sit down." Kei smirked when Hinata jumped.

The small redhead had seemed frozen in the middle of Kei's bedroom, unsure what to do, too scared to touch anything. He almost too-quickly grabbed at the desk chair and dropped down into it, pulling his legs up to criss-cross them and god, he was so small. Kei sat down on his bed, careful not to step on the futon on the floor and for a minute they just looked at each other.

Kei turned away first. Hinata spoke first.

"Sorry I came so late. I wanted to come before dinner but-"

"You got lost." Kei wanted to roll his eyes. He arched a brow instead. "You've been here a dozen times."

"Yeah, but that was at night and I was walking from *school*."

"You've walked *home* from here."

"But that's the other way!" His lower lip stuck out, just a little, and it was all Kei could do not to reach out and pinch it.

"Well, you're here now." He said it half-expectantly, almost a question.

"Yeah." Hinata was weird. His energy was a buzz, a quiet hum beneath his awkward, stiff exterior and his hands were clasped in his lap and it seemed like he didn't know why he was there either.

Kei wanted to ask. He wanted to assure Hinata that there was no reason to worry. He wanted to know *himself* that there was no reason to worry. He wanted his Klonopin.

"You like dinosaurs," Hinata noted, eyes sweeping the room. It was a plain room, just the essentials and a few books, a potted cactus, some goldfish on his desk and two or three dinosaur figurines. "I didn't know."

"How would you know if you've never been here?" Kei scoffed, because Hinata seemed almost guilty, like it was something he should've noticed before.

Hinata had dropped his feet to the floor to move the desk chair, to swivel in a half circle without ever turning around. His eyes brightened a little, he smiled a little. "Why do you like them?"

Kei almost blushed. He pushed his glasses up on his nose to hide his embarrassment. No one sees these except Yamaguchi, sometimes. And even then, it was only rarely because he didn't often stay the night. "They're mysterious." He said, simply, and even though he knew it wasn't a real explanation he scowled when Hinata didn't get it.

"Huh?"

His scowl turned into a glare, as though his friend was being deliberately obtuse. "Because they're gone. You can't learn about them, just guess. It's cool."

"Oh." Hinata still didn't seem to get it, not really, but he gushed anyway. "You even make dinosaurs seem cool, Tsukishima!"

This time, Kei *did* blush. "They are, so that's why."

After a moment, Hinata got up and went to the window. He poked his fingers through a slit in the blinds, and squinted out at the sky. "I like space. I like the stars and the planets. And the moon." And Kei wondered if he'd gotten as red as Hinata's hair. "It's- um..." Hinata seemed to backpedal, stammering and searching for a proper explanation but Kei only half-heard it.

Because Hinata looked at the moon the way that Kei looked at the sun. Because the ridiculous comparison of their opposites that had been thrust upon them during their first year suddenly meant a whole lot more. Because Hinata thought about Kei the way he did Hinata.

"Hey," Kei felt more at ease, suddenly.

Hinata stopped his babbling and looked at Kei, wide-eyed and embarrassed. "Yeah?"

"Let's watch a movie."

...

They sat together. Side by side, back against the wall on Kei's bed. The movie was something American, something Hinata had suggested but Kei didn't know what it meant. It looked like it was about a doll, but he wasn't entirely sure what the point was and the translation was weird. Hinata didn't seem to have any trouble with it, or maybe he didn't care.

Maybe he wasn't really paying attention anyway. Kei was distracted, completely sober for the first time in a long time and trying to cope with that fact. It was distressing to realize how much he was feeling now compared to how much he didn't feel on the pills. It was distressing that he liked the feeling he had, that he liked being here and like this and with Hinata, but he still wanted the pills.

Hinata leaned against his arm where they would be shoulder-to-shoulder if the smaller boy were taller. "Do you like it?" He almost whispered, and it took Kei a few seconds to realize he meant the movie and that he was probably on edge. Something was happening, the music was dramatic and a woman was running around.

"I don't know what's happening." He admitted. "The subtitles are weird."

"Oh. Um, it's- the doll is-"

"It's fine. I don't mind." He liked sitting here like this. He liked Hinata sitting beside him. Leaning on him.

"Sorry." He was sheepish.

"It's fine." And then, "How do understand?"

"My dad was American." Hinata craned his neck, looking up to catch Kei's eyes. The light that came from the computer screen was the only light, and it illuminated his amber eyes in a way that made him glow like a cat. "You didn't know?"

"No." But it made sense to think about it now. The red hair. "So you speak English?"

"I- no, not really. But I understand it okay. I can't believe you didn't know."

"How would I know? You look Japanese."

"He was half-Japanese. But I look like him. So does Natsu- my sister."

"Was he short, too?" Kei asked without thinking, and for a split-second he panicked because *'was'* implied bad things, and Kei was probably being very insensitive.

The panic didn't last, though, because Hinata pulled away and shifted to face Kei with a huff. Arms crossed as he sat on his knees, butt on his legs, he was pouting. He wasn't upset, just annoyed. "No, he wasn't, you jerk."

"Then why are you?" Kei had to force his face to stay blank. He had to hold back a laugh at the flash of outrage in Hinata's eyes.

"I'm not *that* short, you're just ridiculously tall."

"You're just jealous."

Hinata huffed again, and then dropped his arms and flopped over on the bed. He didn't think it odd, apparently, that he flopped over into Kei's lap because he didn't move. He just laid there, limp, like he'd given up. "Jerk. Jerk-shima."

Kei felt a jolt go through him as he looked down at his friend. At Hinata, who was silly and playful and pouting and a *lot*. He was so much and too much and for the first time, Kei felt unstable, he felt like he was swaying or something was changing or like he was falling. He hesitated. Cautiously dropped his hand palm-down on Hinata's back. "You can jump higher than me." He pointed out in a half-assed attempt at mending the peace. "You're like a wound-up spring."

"Even your compliments sound like insults." Hinata grumbled, but he had definitely cheered up. His moods were all over the place, all the time, and Kei realized then how much he liked that. How much he liked the effect he had on Hinata. "You can't jump as high because you don't try. You barely even bend your legs."

"Why bother? I don't have to jump high to block."

"Stop bragging!" Hinata rolled over, his head and shoulders still across Kei's legs but now he was looking up at him. "You're supposed to be humble."

"Says the one that shrieks every time you score a point."

"I do not *shriek*, I *roar* a manly roar." He corrected matter-of-factly.

"Whatever you say, Shrimpy."

Hinata glared for all of two seconds. Then, the glare faded and he had *that look*. That look he got before a game (and after throwing up from nerves), and he cocked his head and he drew his eyebrows together. "It doesn't matter if I'm short, I'm still the best."

And how, *how*, after losing every single year, could he still say that? Still believe it? It was ridiculous. Foolish. Kei found it admirable. He was jealous. "You can be kind of cool, even if you're short." He said, just to see those eyes light up, to see his grin break out and feel his energy grow to a (manly) roar. Because for whatever reason, people really took it to heart when Kei said they were cool. It wasn't really a lie, anyway.

"Ha!" Both little fists pumped the air. "I'll remember that, you can't take it back!" And then, quieter, "I'm cool."

Kei snorted. He said 'can be' and 'kind of', but he couldn't bring himself to burst Hinata's bubble. There was silence, instead.

...

The credits rolled, neither had really seen the ending. Hinata had gotten squirmy, antsy and Kei was trying to keep from getting that way too. It was almost eleven, but Hinata's energy was contagious. When the redhead demanded a walk, Kei accepted with relief and a firm condition of "No volleyball." to Hinata's dismay.

...

Kei couldn't stop looking up, glancing at the moon and stars as they walked. This was their second sleepover, their second late-night walk and the second weekend that he had to go without his pills. Without the grey. He was distracted though, by the obnoxious redhead (and working to keep him from getting too loud this late at night) and by the moon. Space. Lately, he'd been looking at it the way he looked at the sun, sometimes. Only the moon didn't shine as bright.

"Hinata." Kei said, cutting whatever Hinata's rambling had been about short.

Hinata tilted his head back, and Kei wondered briefly how he could walk like that. Without looking where he's going. Practice, he assumed.

"Why do you like space?" He hadn't asked before, and felt bad for it now. It was a whole week later, but who cares?

The way that Hinata's eyes lit up made him glad he asked. "Because it's so-" He spread hands apart, arms extended on either side. "-big! There's so much of it, and you can look at it and see *forever*."

Kei didn't have the heart to tell him that no, you really can't, that pollution blocks out most of the stars.

"And it's beautiful. And there's so much of it even though it's far away, too much to see even if you're in a rocket ship and you fly for your whole life. You'll never see it all." When he gushed, Kei found it difficult to look away. Away from his absent smile and gaze, away from his bright eyes and wild hand gestures. "There's just so much I can't even think about it sometimes- or understand it, or something..." He drifted off into a mumble, like he wasn't sure what he was trying to explain anymore.

"Like you."

Hinata stopped walking, and Kei stopped too. But couldn't look at him. His cheeks were warm and he regretted his words, but didn't at the same time. "What does that mean?"

"It means what I said." He pushed his glasses up on his nose, staring blankly ahead. "It's like you."

"I don't understand." The pout was heavy enough that Kei knew it was there, even without looking. "Are you saying I'm too much- like, I'm obnoxious?"

"You *are* obnoxious," He smirked at the indignant huff he received in reply before continuing. "But that's not what I mean. I don't understand you. Not in a bad way."

"Then how?" Hinata moved around Kei to stand in front of him, demanding attention the way he so often did without trying.

Kei shrugged, but Hinata's glare was unrelenting. There was a pull at the back of his mind, an almost tangible pull that made him want to go home, to shut himself in his room and away from this vulnerability and away from Hinata. A pull to the grey that he wondered, would it ever go away? Now that he knew it, now that he'd been there, would he ever stop wanting to go back? Every time he was afraid, every time he was anxious or nervous, the pull grew stronger and didn't fade until he gave in.

And this, this moment here, this sort of confession made him nervous. It made him scared. "I could look at you forever and I'd never stop seeing you." Scared, because what if Hinata- what if *the sun*, Kei's sun, rejected these thoughts and Kei in the process? "Everything you are goes on forever. I could be with you forever but I'll never understand you."

"I still don't understand." Hinata whined and crossed his arms, but Kei wondered if maybe he *did* understand, if maybe he just wanted to hear more. Kei couldn't remember the last time he actually spoke this much. Or the last time he was this honest with someone.

"You just never stop going." He wasn't sure how many times he'd had this conversation with himself. How many times he'd tried to put together the puzzle that was Hinata Shoyou and found that there were too many pieces missing. He didn't think there could ever be enough pieces to complete the puzzle. "You don't give up. You're infinitely you even when everything else goes against you."

"How?" And this time, Kei was sure he understood. That he just wanted to hear more. But the way he asked, the way it was barely audible made it hard to refuse. Or maybe it was the night around them that made everything else seem unreal. Like they were the only two people, like nobody and nothing else mattered. The dark, stillness of night provided a cover and made him feel safe. Was that how Hinata felt?

"You could lose a thousand matches and still be the best. You could fail at everything and never give up. You don't lose, even when you do." He turned his face to hide his blush. "I'll never get it. You just don't stop."

"And you do?"

*'I want to.'*

"Tsukishima."

"Everybody does except you." He hated himself for being so cliche. "You shine brighter than they do."

"I think you see more in me than what's really there." He laughed quietly, nervously, rubbing at his neck. His smile was sheepish when Kei finally faced him again.

"I don't."

"How do you know?"

"Because you can't look directly at the sun. It's too bright. I just see the light."

"You're ridiculous." But his voice was small and weak. "Who knew you were such a poet? I guess that's why you never talk."

Kei scoffed, but he was locked on the amber eyes. In them. "How could I when you never stop?"

Hinata didn't even feign a pout. He just stepped up, rising on his toes and dragging Kei down with two fists tangled in his collar, and then their lips touched and the Hinata's light dulled the rest of his senses.

There had only been silence after that. For the rest of the walk, as they made their way back into the house and to Kei's room. They laid down and neither of them said anything, even though the shuffling told each other that neither slept. Not a word was said, even when Hinata had climbed into Kei's bed and under his blanket. They only shared a brief glance before Hinata squeezed his eyes shut, Kei scooted back to make room, and that's how the slept.

The next morning, Hinata was in the shower when Kei woke up, and the two acted as though nothing had changed.

...

"That's enough!" Kageyama snapped, voice resounding in the gym and the first-years froze in place. "If you're gonna fight, don't do it at school!"

"That's not really good advice, Tobio," Yamaguchi whispered from his side.

"Don't fight if you wanna play volleyball!" Hinata corrected, and Kei watched him from where he'd been serving balls. The two were still close. The obnoxious duo. It wasn't the same kind of closeness that Kei used to see, though, because now Yamaguchi was with Kageyama- *with* Kageyama, if Kei was correct.

Yamaguchi still walked with him, sometimes. To the gym, from class. They would eat lunch together every once in a while. Kei wasn't sure if they were still friends, or if it was going through the motions like he did with school and life.

...

Alone in his room, in the dark, with only his pills to keep him company but it wasn't really enough. Hinata hadn't spoken to him aside from during practice. He hadn't asked to come over this weekend. Did he not want to? Was it all just... being caught up in the moment? The week before, the sleepover, the walk. The kiss. Maybe it was a side effect of always being high. Maybe it stopped because Kei had started taking them before practice again. Maybe it was because Hinata didn't like it, and didn't like Kei by extension. Maybe he *never* liked Kei, the way he was thinking that maybe he liked Hinata.

The way he must like Hinata, for that kiss to have been so bright.

Kei walked home alone that day, and when he got home, he threw away the pills.

...

When he couldn't sleep or breathe or stop crying, he dug them back out.

...

Yamaguchi was sending and reading emails on the walk home. His soft smiles, his breathy laughs now and then- the name at the top of the email, Kei noticed, was Kageyama. They were almost to Kei's house when he finally asked,

"Are we friends?" Simply, bluntly, braced for rejection. Braced to go back to how things had been before Yamaguchi, before middleschool, when he'd had no friends and walked alone every day and ate alone every day and was *alone every day*.

It seemed to take a moment for the question to register, and when it did Yamaguchi slipped his phone into his pocket and looked up at Kei. "Of course we are. Why wouldn't we be?" And he sounded so genuine, so sincere, but how could he not know where the question came from?

Kei shrugged, staring straight ahead.

"...I didn't know if you'd wanna know..." His freckled-friend began. "But I've just been- um, busy, I'm-"

"It's The King."

"You've known?" When Kei finally did look over he was met with wide eyes and a mortified stare.

"It's obvious because I know you."

Yamaguchi relaxed, tension draining from his body, only to stiffen once again. "And- and we're still friends,"

"I just asked *you* that."

"Oh, yeah." He breathed a laugh, and reached out, bumping Kei lightly with his shoulder. "So it's- you know, you don't mind if I'm...?"

"No." He swallowed, stared ahead again. "Me too."

"Oh,"

And then,

"*Oh*!"

And then a comfortable silence.

...

He didn't take any pills that night, and he began to understand that he needed them most when faced with the idea of being alone. He needed to get a grip.

...

The three of them showed up in Kei's classroom for lunch. Yamaguchi, Hinata and The King. Hinata seemed antsy, more than usual, and Kei didn't say a whole lot either. He didn't expect anyone to come and he'd taken two. He didn't want Hinata to know, but he didn't think he'd ever been able to hide it- not from him, somehow. He knew from the start.

He needed to stop. Not just for Hinata, but because this wasn't a way to live. Overdosing and spacing through classes and hating nearly every second of his life that he was sober. He needed to auit, but what could he do? How could he stop when he could hardly breathe without them?

...

"My brother says he buys them from Usami." A whisper in the locker room as Kei walked inside to switch his sport's glasses with his regular ones. He stopped walking.

"No way, really?" An exaggerated gasp. "Maybe that's why he's been nicer."

"Why are you still here?" He snapped, moving around the lockers, and they both spun around to face him. The shorter kid- Saito Something- looked terrified. Watanabe just narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms.

"Is it true? Do you do drugs?" He asked, and when Kei just arched a brow he smirked.

"We're locking the gym. Get out."

Saito ducked his head and set to gathering his things. Watanabe stared Kei down, the smirk plastered on his face.

He was a punk. He picked fights, started conflict and made no effort to fit into the team as a *teammate*. The only reason he was on the team at all was because Hinata and Kageyama made that call. Because they were trouble, too, at first- only they had worked to improve, and this kid doesn't.

"Unless you want to clean the gym for a week," Kei all but hissed through his teeth. "Leave."

They left, Watanabe brushing by him as they went, and Kei took a moment to breathe. To count backwards from ten, to calm down, to-

The metallic clang rang out like a gunshot as his fist sank into a locker door, denting it beyond repair and definitely bruising his knuckles but he didn't care. The pain cracked through the pull he felt to his gym bag, to his pills, and he wanted them and needed them but he had to stop, he *had* to.

He sat down on the bench, elbows on his knees and head in his hands and god, he needed to breathe, he was suffocating. Two days without them and he felt like he was *dying*. Maybe he was, maybe his body had learned to depend on them. He stood up to find his bag but turned to find Hinata there instead.

Amber eyes moved to the dented, broken locker, then to Kei, wide and uncertain and *scared*. "Tsukishima," A question and a demand. *What happened?*

His heart raced, beating violently against his ribcage as if to break through. His breath had hitched and stopped completely and he could feel his eyes begin to sting and no, no, *no* not here, not in front of someone, in front of *Hinata* not-

"Ts- Tsukishima!" Hinata was there, then, reaching up absurdly high to put his hands on Kei's shoulders and guide him down to sit on the bench. "What happened?" He was whispering, because the other two third-years were in the gym.

Kei ripped his glasses from around his head and dropped them with a clatter, pressing his palms to his eyes as though he could stop the tears that way. He didn't cry, he wasn't sobbing, it was just tears and fast, shallow breaths that made him dizzy and then there were two, short arms around his neck and a warm chest against his own. He wanted to shove him away and pull him closer and yell at him and run because this was humiliating. He slid his arms around Hinata, fingers digging into his t-shirt as though he'd disappear if Kei let go.

"What's wrong? What happened?" The voice was soft, and small and so *scared*. Kei had never heard him like this before and he never wanted to again. It wasn't Hinata, it was like a stranger's voice.

What could he say? That he'd been caught? That the little punk first-year had found out? He'd never said it out loud before, and he didn't want to start now- didn't want to face it like this, not with Hinata. He didn't say anything, just worked to slow his breathing and steady his heart and held onto someone warm that made him feel like this might, *might* be okay. "This- it's all the time." He managed as an attempt at explaining himself. Because Hinata *knew* but he didn't know why, he didn't understand. "It's all the time." He repeated, when Hinata pulled back.

His brows were knit together, confusion and concern across his features. "I don't understand."

Kei just closed his eyes, gathered himself and- in a moment of weakness- let his forehead rest against Hinata's shoulder. He counted backwards from ten. At one, he took a slow, deep breath. "It's like this all the time." He tried again. "I am."

There was a beat of silence, and then Hinata exclaimed, "Oh, that's why-" too loud and Kei cut him off.

"Yeah."

And then, there was more silence. Kei waited for Hinata to speak, but he didn't and so he sat up, looked at Hinata who was all but in his lap and still held him around the shoulders. He knew he looked like shit, with puffy, tired eyes and he was probably pale and he knew he was sweaty, but it's not like they'd never seen each other gross and sweaty before. It came with volleyball. He rubbed his eyes on his sleeve to dry them.

Hinata shifted, moving to sit beside Kei on the bench. Close enough that they were arm-to-arm, leg-to-leg. It would be knee-to-knee if his legs weren't so short. After a while of them both staring intently at the lockers in front of them, Hinata reached out and touched his hand, fingertips resting over Kei's.

"Are you okay now?"

Kei shrugged, turning his face away. He heard Hinata shift, and then felt something cool against his hand. He took his glasses, but kept his gaze away. "Thanks." He swallowed.

"So... are you mad at me?" Hinata mumbled, barely audible even in the otherwise-silent locker room.

"What? No. Why-" Oh, wait, "Because you kissed me?"

"Don't just say it out loud!" He almost shrieked and finally, Kei forced himself to look over and found Hinata's face just as red as his hair.

"I was never angry." He decided against teasing him for now, even though he was being silly. He *kissed him*, but saying it out loud was an issue?

"But you didn't talk to me again and you always seemed moody at school-"

"I'm not moody." Kei interrupted, glaring at the lockers. "I stopped... I wasn't-"

"Hey," Kageyama's voice rang out and Kei wanted to punch him. He just grit his teeth instead, facing The King. "We're not cleaning the gym on our own."

"Okay, we're coming!" Hinata jumped up, his face still red and his enthusiasm fake because wow, he was a very bad actor. Kei didn't move until Kageyama- after a suspicious glare- went back to the gym.

Then, Kei rose from the bench and moved to his locker to switch his glasses. "I wasn't angry." He repeated. "I thought you might be."

Hinata huffed. "Can I stay over on Friday?" And there was, left unsaid, the promise of a conversation that they needed to have. About the kiss, about Kei's... problem.

"Sure."

...

The four of them went for meat buns after practice on Thursday. Underneath the setting sun, Yamaguchi and Kageyama held hands. Hinata just looked away, eyes wide and cheeks red like he wasn't supposed to see it. Kei didn't react.

Two more days without any and he was in hell, but there were moments like this that made him okay. That held his resolve, kept him from falling back into the grey at every opportunity.

Hinata beamed at him when they parted ways, his smile brighter than the red sun but not hot enough to burn the strings that held him to the grey. He wasn't sure there was anything that could get through those.

...

He woke up Friday morning the way he had been most mornings: wishing that he hadn't. His mind, as usual, screamed and pleaded for Klonopin and he ignored it, going through the motions with a heavy dread weighing him down. Because he hated waking up, he hated going to school and he was scared about what Hinata had to say. He was trying to quit, he really, really was, but what if Hinata decided that it wasn't worth it to wait around? To be friends until then? Kei couldn't do this alone but it wasn't fair to rely on anyone else to help him, either- he wished that he'd never found the fucking bottle in the first place.

...

After school, before practice, he dumped all but five of them in the toilet and didn't bother watching as they flushed away. He would keep five, just in case. He wouldn't buy anymore. He had to stop. He *had to*, because the longer he took them the more he took and the more often he did. He didn't know where he was going, but it wasn't good.

He had to figure out something else to do in the meantime, though, to stop the pit in his stomach from swallowing him from the inside out.

...

Hinata wheeled his bike along the sidewalk, and the silence between the two felt awkward and thick. Kei didn't know what to say, though- he wasn't a talker. He wasn't good at making conversation, just at listening (or pretending to) while Himata rambled on and if Hinata wasn't there was only silence.

All day, the fact that Hinata had thought Kei was angry was in his mind. He'd thought that Hinata hadn't wanted to talk, Hinata thought he was angry and they avoided one another because of it. He couldn't think of anything more cliche and ridiculous than that if he tried. Now, though, they were together but the quiet was in anticipation for what was to come.

And Kei didn't *do* this, he didn't *do* serious. He didn't do solemn, real conversations like the ones he'd had with Hinata before and the ones he'd be having later. This wasn't like him and he didn't know what to do, to say. He didn't know how to begin.

He wasn't sure if he could handle it, anyway, if it didn't go well.

...

Hinata had been polite at dinner. Calm, polite and *charming* in a way that Kei didn't even know he could be. It was both amazing to see, and uncomfortable because his mother completely bought it, and it was so completely fake and just *not Hinata*. And definitely not the same Hinata his mother had met in their first year, when Kei had tried to help him and Kageyama study. The bouncing, tiny body of boundless energy that was always on the verge of yelling was nowhere to be found in front of Ms. Tsukishima, and it was an almost jarring difference. The only sign of the real Hinata was the nervous way he picked at his clothes, his napkin, his fingernails. Maybe this *was* Hinata, after all, but it was Hinata when he was anticipating something with dread the way that Kei was.

...

It was only as they lay in the dark, Hinata on the futon and Kei on his bed, that anything was said and it was Hinata that broke the silence.

"Tsukishima,"

He hummed his acknowledgment. There was a shuffling from the floor, and then his mattress dipped down. He blinked through the darkness, willing his eyes to adjust as he scooted against the wall to make room. Hinata wrestled with the blanket until he was underneath it too, and they lay quietly still. The sound of their breaths, mingling together as they lay face-to-face was the only sound. Every shallow, nervous breath from the smaller boy tickled Kei's cheek, and smelled minty. Toothpaste and mouthwash. He hoped his own breath was the same, but he closed his mouth to breathe through his nose just in case.

"Hinata." He said it just to break the silence before it grew again.

"Yeah?" And it was that whisper, that quiet, hushed tone of voice that made Kei anxious.

He searched, scrambled mentally for something to say. "I was never angry." And that wasn't what he meant to say, but whatever.

"I wasn't either." Hinata said, and scooted closer. Close enough that his knees brushed Kei's legs. "So, you don't mind that I... you know,"

Kei smirked, even though Hinata couldn't see it. "No, I don't know. What are you referring to?"

Hinata let out a sort of outraged cry, almost too loud for the late hour. "You're a jerk!" And then, hissed, "The *kiss*!"

"I didn't mind." He finally answered. In fact, he *liked* it, a lot. More than he could put into words.

"Did you- do you-" And Hinata stopped, and huffed before rolling onto his back. As his eyes finally adjusted to the dark, Kei could see him glaring at the ceiling, arms crossed. His jaw was set, lips tight. Stubborn and determined. "People think I never pay attention to stuff, but I think it's *you*. Even Kageyama knows."

"Knows what?" He really was lost at this point.

"Tsukishima." The exasperation was clear in his tone, but the next words were so quiet they were almost inaudible. "I like you." And muffled by his hand over his lips, like somehow that would soften whatever blow he expected to recieve.

Kei couldn't say anything. He hadn't even fully put his own feelings into words, hadn't even really acknowledged them completely- it wasn't like he didn't know he felt the same way, especially with how light he felt hearing those feelings returned. He felt empty in a good way, like he was weightless, like gravity didn't exist and he was about to float away into space. Speaking wasn't an option and Hinata obviously was waiting for a response so Kei shifted, propping himself up on one arm and touching his lips to Hinata's cheek. Feather-light, but still a kiss and Hinata caught his eyes when he moved away.

He sat up on his elbows. "Does that mean you like me back?"

"What else would it mean?" Kei shot back, because it was easier than actually answering.

Hinata beamed and his shoulders went slack, a tension leaving that Kei hadn't even seen in the dark. "You like me," He gushed. "Tsukishima likes me."

"It's not that weird." Kei mumbled, but to see Hinata so *happy*, to see him like this just because Kei had accepted his feelings was something he could watch forever and never get tired of it. It was the same way that he gushed over an especially good volleyball move, or when he successfully blocked a ball or did his special attack. Only now, Kei was the center of that.

He settled back down on the pillow and Hinata turned on his side, resting his face close to Kei's. Across his lips was a small, delicate smile, one that seemed about to break into a grin or to fade away completely and Kei couldn't make heads or tails of the expression. A smaller hand brushed over his under the sheets, and he took it in his own before he had the chance to think about it. Even in the dark, Kei was sure the face in front of his changed shades but the smile grew.

Then it faltered, and Hinata let out a breathy, nervous giggle. "Are you happy?"

The question took him by surprise- how could Hinata not feel the weightlessness? The light and floaty feeling? How could he not feel that Kei was about to float away? "Yes." He hardly heard himself say it. He was more than happy. He couldn't remember the last time that he felt this way. The last time he even felt close to it. "I'm-" How could he put it into words? How could he describe how he had never let himself think about this as a real possibility because why would Hinata like him back? He had felt it enough to just be *friends* but this- whatever it was- was more than he could put into words. Hinata was more than he could put into words.

"You're not smiling."

Oh. It's true that he wasn't smiling, but he rarely did- not out of unhappiness, but because he didn't find it necessary to share what he felt with the world. It was too open, and it's not like anyone needed to know. Except now, Hinata wanted to know. And that was reasonable since it pertained to him, but Kei didn't know how to share. It would be awkward to smile on demand. He blinked instead, trying to think of an appropriate response as the amber eyes burned into his.

"I never smile."

The corners of Hinata's lips turned down, just barely enough to notice. "You do too. You smile when we win a match. Even if it's a scary one."

"It's not my face that's scary, you're just a coward."

"Am not!" He whisper-yelled. "You're a *giant*, so of course it's scary."

"You're just a shrimp."

"You can't be mean to me if you like me." Hinata whined, rolling closer on the mattress until he was lying half-on top of Kei. Stomach-to-stomach, shoulder-to-chest, legs tangled up and being this close made Kei's face warm.

"I'm being honest, not mean."

Hinata groaned. Then, he pushed himself up, eyes on Kei's. "Can we walk?"

...

There was no moon, but the stars cast their blueish glow over the streets on their own. That stillness and blanket of night kept Kei stable, kept him from feeling too afraid and too nervous. He wanted and didn't want to have the conversation that he knew they would be having. He hoped that it would be enough to say it had been days, but at the same time he felt selfish for hoping that. He wanted to take the night and let it swallow him whole, into blackness instead of grey or the stark soberness that came without it.

Hinata's fingers slid timidly over Kei's palm, lacing with longer ones and only relaxing when Kei squeezed his hand. For a time, they just walked together in silence. It wasn't uncomfortable, but the anticipation was back and so soon after the relief Kei felt in mostly-settling what was between them.

'Between them' didn't sound right, though- things had happened so quickly but so slowly at the same time. It wasn't that anything grew, they had barely talked until they were friends and then Hinata kissed him. And Kei thought that was the end of it all, but it wasn't and whatever this was... it was more than he could have hoped for. More than he would have felt safe hoping for. More than he knew he deserved, and that thought would have made him pull his hand away from Hinata's if he didn't think it'd make him upset.

"You need a nickname." Hinata broke into his thoughts. "Since- if- um," He giggled, the same nervous giggle that he'd done before. "Are we together?"

His heart stopped and fluttered at the same time. "If you want to be." But his words felt strained and his voice tight, and for just a moment he feared for tears. "I do." He added, after he'd cleared his throat. The thought in his mind, that he doesn't deserve it, deserve this, deserve someone like Hinata wouldn't stop resounding inside his head.

"Me too!" And it was too loud, and too quick, so he said it again but calmly. "Me too." As though that would take back the enthusiastic answer he'd given first. "So you need a nickname."

"Not Tsukki." He loathed it. Yamaguchi was allowed because he was Yamaguchi, and maybe if Hinata insisted he'd let him, but he wouldn't like it.

"What's a word for way-too-tall?"

Kei snorted.

"Can I call you by your given name?" He asked suddenly, as if he just thought of it but Kei suspected this was the closest thing Hinata had to tact.

He glanced down at the short boy with fiery bedhead. "Fine." And he really did try to sound exasperated, but he wasn't sure that he pulled it off. "Go ahead, Shouyo."

Hinata- or Shouyo- ducked his head. "Oi, that sounds weird coming from you."

"I feel like I should be offended. Everyone calls you Shouyo."

"Yeah, but that's- it's different when it's *you*. Kei." He whispered the name like it was forbidden to speak out loud, but Kei understood what he meant right away- it was different in a weird way that made him feel giddy and nervous and, once again, floaty. If he wasn't holding Shouyo's hand, would his feet still be on the ground?

He had never felt close enough to anyone- not like this- to let them use his first name. It was weird that he'd known his teammate for three years and things had turned out this way. He'd always, in a way, admired Shouyo. But he'd found him insufferable as well. Now, he still found him insufferable, but it was in a good way (if that were possible) and if he could, he would suffer through his boundless energy and noise indefinitely. At the same time, Shouyo seemed to be quieter when he was with Kei lately.

...

Instead of going home, they walked to the park by Kei's house and now they sat there, underneath a tree and looking up to the sky as though they could see through the leaves. Shouyo leaned against Kei, head against his shoulder and one short leg draped over a longer one. Their fingers still laced together, Shouyo squirmed where he sat. Kei was tired of waiting, but afraid to destroy the peace that he felt in this moment.

"Kei," Shouyo finally spoke, and the taller boy tensed. "Kei, can I tell you something?"

Kei just hummed.

"My dad is in rehab." And the way he said it, braced and afraid like he expected a bad response- Kei squeezed Shouyo's hand gently, and he went on. "Right before I started high school, he went. I knew before that, he was- uh, different, kind of, but- I didn't know why."

"Oh." Kei leaned back against the tree, tilting his head back to catch flashes of the stars between the branches and leaves. He knew he should say something, that he should be reassuring, but he didn't know what to say or how to comfort people.

"Before that, my mom said he went to a doctor. But not the- it was the kind for his head, you know," And there was a pause as Shouyo shifted uncomfortably, plucking at the grass with his free hand, twirling the blades between his fingers.

"They gave him medication?"

"Yeah. And mom said it helped at first, but then..." He trailed off, and Kei slowly turned his gaze down to the redhead. Shouyo didn't meet his eyes, staring at the grass. His grip on Kei's hand had gotten stiff and his hand felt cold. "He comes home sometimes, but he always goes back. Now he's gonna stay for a long time."

"I'm sorry." Kei offered, but all he could think about was how Shouyo had done it. How he had hidden it so well, how he'd kept going for all these years without letting on or giving up, even when everything was against him.

"You started to remind me of him sometimes. Before he went for the first time."

Oh. He wanted to feel ashamed for doing what he'd been doing at all, but his shame came from how much he realized now that he'd been hurting Shouyo. How much it must have bothered him, and looking back, Kei could see it more clearly now.

"I just don't want- even if we weren't *friends* before, I still- I care, okay?" Wide eyes finally caught Kei's. Wide, vulnerable and still somehow cautious. "And I don't want you to..."

"It's been days." He hoped that it would be enough, that it would but Shouyo's mind at ease if even a little.

The smile was genuine, but not reassured. "I can help you. You can call me and I'll come over or-"

"It's not your obligation." Kei said, instead of saying it wasn't his business.

"I *want* to help because I don't want to lose you. As a teammate or my friend or- anything."

Kei studied those eyes, and clenched his teeth together so hard that they ached. How could anyone be so open and so strong at the same time? How could Shouyo be real? "You won't." He finally promised, and he meant it. He would do whatever it took, not for Shouyo alone but because to see the way that something he considered his own problem hurt someone was jarring. To see how it could effect his family, to hear where he could end up. He didn't want that. He would do whatever it took, if it meant seeing a new doctor to find another solution or asking someone- Shouyo or Yamaguchi- to manage his money until he knew he wouldn't be tempted to buy more, if it meant sacrificing his introverted comfort and spending as much time around people as possible- he couldn't spend his life in and out of rehabs and he couldn't and *wouldn't* hurt the people that cared about him.

"Promise?"

Kei raised their hands, touching his lips to the smaller fingers and suppressing a smirk at the fire that erupted over Shouyo's cheeks. "I promise."


End file.
